


Tiny Things

by alltoseek



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Friendship, Humor, M/M, Romance, Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin responds to Douglas' description of a perfect date with one of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiny Things

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Little Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/650342) by [Diane_C](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diane_C/pseuds/Diane_C). 



> Much thanks to my wonderful beta, [JessamyGriffith](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JessamyGriffith/), who would like you to know that I ignored nearly all of her excellent advice, so all the awkward tedious bits (which is most of it) and especially the boring ending are entirely my own fault. 
> 
> The lines in italics in the beginning are from Diane_C's Little Things. This is sort of an alternate ending. Not that the original needed any modification, as it is already perfectly delightful. If you haven't read it go do so now. Especially because this fic will make no sense if you haven't. So even if you have read it go read it again because it is worth multiple re-reads anyway :-)

 

  
_**Douglas:** _   
_Mm, no.  No.  I look into Martin’s eyes, and I simply say,_   
_“To you, my captain.”  And we drink._   
  
_**Martin:**_   
_[silence]_   
  
_****Arthur:****_   
_And then the music swells, and the crowd says, “Ahhh!”_   
_and you kiss each other, and—_   
  
_**Douglas:**_   
_Oh, I think we can fade to black at this point._   
  
_****Arthur:****_   
_Aw, Douglas, that was brilliant.  What a perfect date!_   
_Wasn’t it perfect, Martin?_

  
**Martin:**  
… Mmm, what? Oh, oh yes, perfect. Perfectly lovely.

Perfection indeed, absolutely. Certainly.

Hard to top that, yes.

  
**Douglas:**  
I should think impossible. After all, I planned it.

  
**Martin:**  
However, I think I can offer Arthur another example.

Maybe one more achievable for the novice in the art of courtship.

  
****Arthur:****  
What's a novice?

  
**Douglas:**  
Someone new at something.

  
****Arthur:****  
Oh, yes! That would be me!

  
**Martin:**  
After all, Douglas has had years and _years_ to perfect his style;

it may be quite difficult for Arthur to emulate on his first go.

  
****Arthur:****  
Oh yeah, I could never be as brilliant as Douglas!

  
**Douglas:**  
And thus Sir has some additional ideas for Arthur?

Easier to “emulate”?

  
**Martin:**  
Why, yes, yes, I think I do.

Obviously not as absolutely _perfect_ and _brilliant_ as yours –

  
**Douglas:**  
Obviously.

  
**Martin:**  
So what do you think, Arthur?

Are you interested in my advice?

  
****Arthur:****  
Thanks, Skip, that'd be brilliant!

The more, the better, I'd say.

  
**Martin:**  
Well, then, suppose I wanted to court MJN's very own silver fox –

  
**Douglas:**  
And what, pray tell, is a silver fox?

I was not aware foxes came in metallic colours.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oooh, it's a man who's really attractive, but rather old,

so his hair's gone grey, or silver, like yours.

Oh, do you think he meant you, Douglas?

  
**Douglas:**  
Possibly. Do foxes also come in pink,

for ginger-haired men who blush so prettily?

  
**Arthur:**  
Uh...

  
**Douglas:**  
Or perhaps beet-red?

  
**Martin:**  
 _As I was saying_ , what our _so gallant_ First Officer evidently prefers

to all other activities is listening to the sound of his own voice, _ad nauseum_ –

  
**Arthur:**  
At the museum? So you'd take him to Duxford too?

  
**Martin:**  
No. You see, Douglas has been flying for _so many years_

that aeroplanes have become banal to him.

Additionally, seeing the planes of his youth now consigned to a museum might

make him melancholy, a reminder that his own youth is long in the past.

  
**Arthur:**  
So what would you do to get Douglas talking?

  
**Martin:**  
Usually getting him to to talk isn't the problem; it's getting him to stop.

However, for the purposes of this date, the topic I'd probably start with is... opera.

  
**Arthur:**  
Opera? Do you like opera, Skip?

  
**Martin:**  
No, but Douglas does, and this date is all about _him_.

So I might ask about the symbolism of the flute in Mozart's masterpiece,

or … or the influence of Wagner on modern opera.

Because even if I prefer American bluegrass, I am not completely uncultured.

  
**Douglas:**  
An entire date devoted to expounding upon opera. Oh my, how romantic.

  
**Martin:**  
Oh, isn't opera romantic? What about _La Traviata_?

Or _Tristan und Isolde_ , or _La bohème_?

  
**Douglas:**  
Yes, but not _talking_ –

  
**Martin:**  
In any case, no, that's not the entire date.

But it might not occur to Douglas,

as he's likely never given thought about how someone might woo him –

  
**Douglas:**  
Oh, haven't I?

  
**Martin:**  
 _Since_ he's constantly scheming about how _he's_ going to seduce

the latest “fetching” thing that's caught his eye,

he might not realise that not everyone here has a close personal friend who curates a museum,

or owns a luxury car, or can afford steak for dinner,

in addition to purchasing a whole bunch of other presents.

I was thinking, Arthur, that you might appreciate advice

for times when you can't just throw around a bunch of money to impress your date.

  
**Douglas:**  
[murmurs] _Touché._

  
**Arthur:**  
Hey, thanks, Skip! That would be brilliant,

especially because ever since that trip to Helsinki

Mum doesn't let me anywhere near the credit cards any more.

  
**Douglas:**  
Yes, do go on, Captain, tell us your brilliant plan.

  
**Martin:**  
Well, I, uh... The first thing, Arthur, is to be aware that you don't have

to provide everything yourself to have a great time with your girl.

It's perfectly alright to, uh, make use of things

she might have that you don't, like, uh …

if you want to suggest horse-riding, and she has horses and you don't.

Or if her home is more convenient than yours for watching a DVD you both like.

A lot of people don't like feeling indebted to their date for everything.

Letting them contribute helps them feel more comfortable,

not overwhelmed, not feeling like you are overbearing.

  
**Douglas:**  
[quietly] ... “Overbearing”?

  
**Arthur:**  
But Bitsy's horses are too old for riding now, she says;

and my house – Mum's and mine, I mean – it's brilliant for watching DVDs!

  
**Martin:**  
Those were just examples, Arthur.

Remember, you have to think about what Bitsy likes to do.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh, right! She does likes horse-riding, but I don't have any horses.

  
**Martin:**  
Exactly. What I'm saying is you don't have to go out and buy a horse just to impress her.

  
**Arthur:**  
Which is good, because Mum won't let me. I already asked.

But Skip, does Douglas like horses? I didn't know that.

  
**Martin:**  
No, I don't think he does. But he does like his Lexus – loves showing it off,

and he can play his beloved opera on his beloved sound system.

And I wouldn't even have to worry about the petrol, since he gets it for free.

  
**Arthur:**  
Brilliant! But where will you drive to?

  
**Douglas:**  
Yes, pray tell where Sir would have me drive him on his – excuse me – _our_ date,

whilst I am oh so romantically _lecturing_ him on the highest forms of art ever composed.

  
**Martin:**  
Look, if you can offer to listen to me babble all day about aeroplanes,

which you already know all about, I can offer to listen to you lect- _enlighten_ me about your favourite music.

  
**Douglas:**  
[smiling] Fair enough.

  
**Martin:**  
As for where we drive – and I'm happy to take my van if Douglas doesn't choose to drive,

I'm just trying to be considerate of him, you understand – put his comfort above my own pride –

  
**Douglas:**  
Oh, by all means, do consider away.

Let us presume we are indeed in my smooth-riding,

luxuriant Lexus, encompassed in the sound of the stirring romance of Pucchini's greatest works.

As opposed to jouncing about in your van on its torn vinyl seats,

trying to make sense out of the tinny sounds emanating from its speaker in between bumps.

Since you are so graciously overlooking your _pride_.

  
**Martin:**  
[in a low, grinding tone] Right. Thank you, Douglas. Ahem.

Where we drive is actually a result of my own specialist knowledge.

  
**Douglas:**  
Really? Please do enlighten us.

  
**Martin:**  
I will. You see, whilst Douglas here may have friends and connexions across the world,

what I'm intimately familiar with is our own dear Fitton and its environs.

I have driven to just about every neighbourhood of every city, town,

and village within fifty kilometres.

  
**Douglas:**  
And what have you learnt in your extensive explorations?

Besides the nearest mechanic's shop from any given spot.

  
**Martin:**  
Gardens. Small parks and walks as well, but mainly gardens.

Private ones you can view from the street, and small public ones as well.

Which are coming into their height of beauty about now.

And we know how much Douglas appreciates floral beauty.

  
**Arthur:**  
We do?

  
**Martin:**  
Orchids, Arthur. You can't have forgotten the orchids.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh, right. They were brilliant! So there are gardens with orchids near Fitton?

  
**Douglas:**  
I shouldn't think –

  
**Martin:**  
Yes, yes there are. Well, one, at least, that I know of.

I don't have any _particular_ friendship with the gardener,

but he always seems pretty happy to show visitors around.

  
**Arthur:**  
Wow, Skip! Brilliant!

  
**Martin:**  
Thank you. I have noticed on our overnight stops that Douglas

enjoys a walk of an evening; he often mentions he's going out for one –

  
**Douglas:**  
[choking sound]

  
**Martin:**  
And if there is any possible improvement to be made to our _perfect_ First Officer,

it could only be the shedding of just a few of those extra pounds

which plague so many middle-aged pilots, prone as they are to sitting in the cock-pit

so much of the time and scarfing down most of the cheese tray each flight.

  
**Douglas:**  
[starts to speak but cuts himself off]

  
**Martin:**  
So my proposed tour of the hidden horticultural gems of Fitton

would include some delightful walks along various streams and brooks,

across a wildflower-filled meadow or two, and through small but charming town parks.

  
**Douglas:**  
That does sound... rather charming and delightful.

  
**Martin:**  
Really? You think so?

  
**Douglas:**  
Yes, yes I do. Perhaps we could even find geraniums

that match that particular shade of pink that you turn –

  
**Martin:**  
Gee, thanks.

[mutters] Should have known you were only having a go at me. Again.

  
**Douglas:**  
Martin, I am teasing you.

Teasing: an innocuous method of expressing affection between friends.

  
**Martin:**  
… Oh.

  
**Douglas:**  
By drawing attention to one of your more endearing physical traits:

the contrasting pinks and reds of your complexion and your hair,

both of which serve to heighten the lovely verdigris colour of your eyes.

  
**Martin:**  
Oh! Um [clears throat] Ah... right. Yes. That's …

  
**Douglas:**  
A compliment. Couched in that mild form of

amusement known as the light-hearted tease.

Which if you are going to woo me, court me, or even merely date me,

you should know by now to expect, and indeed will have to endure.

  
**Martin:**  
… I have to endure it anyway.

  
**Douglas:**  
Very true. You may as well get some dates out of it, too.

  
**Martin:**  
Um... right. Ok. So, another advantage of the driving and walking tour

of modest Fitton is that it's a casual event, so I can wear those jeans

Douglas evidently admires my backside in, as he mentioned earlier –

  
**Douglas:**  
[chuckles]

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh, is that what he meant by it suits you?

Because jeans aren't a suit, so that was a little confusing.

  
**Martin:**  
Yes, Arthur, that was what he meant.

And I wear a shirt in shades of green because it complements my hair and eyes,

as I have been reliably informed.

  
**Arthur:**  
What would Douglas wear?

  
**Martin:**  
It doesn't matter; he looks smashing in everything.

  
**Douglas:**  
Why, thank you!

  
**Martin:**  
Don't mention it. I mean literally, don't ever mention I said that.

  
**Douglas:**  
Do you plan to feed me at all on this energetic excursion?

Or is starving me part of “Captain Crieff's Patented Weight Loss Plan for Aging Pilots”?

  
**Martin:**  
[squirming] No... I mean, yes, obviously I'd prefer we ate at some point;

it's just that my budget doesn't usually run to Mrs B's scones, or... or steak.

Tea in a thermos I could manage, but not heather honey.

[mutters] Not any honey usually.

  
**Douglas:**  
Therefore I am left to weep in hunger?

Or do I supply the scones as well as the car?

  
**Martin:**  
Bringing along leftover carry-out from the house communal fridge seems tacky.

  
**Douglas:**  
[drily] … In the extreme.

  
**Martin:**  
I'll have to think of something.

  
**Douglas:**  
[doubtfully] Will you?

  
**Martin:**  
Yes, I will! I can think of things when I put my mind to it!

  
**Arthur:**  
That's right!

  
**Martin:**  
I just don't happen to spend most of my day plotting

how I would go about seducing my co-pilot.

  
**Douglas:**  
[quietly] Mm, that's unfortunate...  
[louder] What's right, Arthur?

  
**Arthur:**  
Skip can think of things!

He got us unstuck from underneath a bridge in Spain!

  
**Douglas:**  
You were stuck under a bridge in Spain? In Gerti?

  
**Martin:**  
Never mind that!

  
**Arthur:**  
No, in a baggage cart. Skip's brilliant!

  
**Douglas:**  
I'm sure he is.

Why have I not heard this story before?

  
**Arthur:**  
I don't know. It's a really good one. It was when Skip and I –

  
**Martin:**  
No it isn't! It was just ridiculous.

Anyway, we're talking about dates, how to plan a perfect outing,

and getting stuck under bridges doesn't come into it.

  
**Douglas:**  
Are you sure? I would so like to witness your brilliance in action, Captain.

It could be very impressive.

  
**Martin:**  
Yes, I'm sure! No, it wouldn't!

  
**Arthur:**  
Anyway, you have seen Skip be brilliant, Douglas.

  
**Douglas:**  
I have?

  
**Arthur:**  
We all did! When he landed Gerti on one engine in St Petersburg.

  
**Douglas:**  
Ah, yes. How could I forget.

  
**Martin:**  
[lowly] One moment of brilliance in four years.

You can be forgiven.

  
**Douglas:**  
Still, I will cede Sir's brilliance without further examples,

as we are all living proof of it.

Unless you have a brilliant idea for wrapping up

our heretofore charming day, sans any bridge-sticking?

  
**Martin:**  
Umm... not exactly a brilliant idea, no.

  
**Arthur:**  
But you do have an idea.

  
**Martin:**  
Ye-es, but now it strikes me as rather unbrilliant.

Closer to dim, in fact.

  
**Douglas:**  
Nevertheless, I await your reveal with bated breath.

And a rumbling stomach.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh, are you hungry, Douglas?

  
**Martin:**  
He means his imaginary self on this hypothetical date,

since I didn't spring for any scones.

  
**Arthur:**  
Maybe Douglas would offer to pay for them.

  
**Martin:**  
He's already provided the car.

There is a limit on what you ask your date to pay for!

  
**Douglas:**  
If, during this arduous trek through all the charming and

delightful gardens of Fitton, Douglas were to pass by

a charming tea shop or a delightful bakery with

delicious smells emanating from it,

Douglas would certainly offer to buy scones.

Or possibly muffins, or perhaps biscuits.

  
**Martin:**  
[mumbling] There is a limit.

  
**Douglas:**  
And if Sir declined to join Douglas,

Sir could wait outside whilst Douglas rested his feet,

weary from carrying around his excessive girth,

and indulged his already over-abundant belly.

  
**Arthur:**  
Douglas, when you keep saying “Douglas”,

do you mean the imaginary Douglas on the date with Skip or do you mean you?

Because it's very confusing when you talk about yourself

like you are not you, but like you're somebody else.

Who's not you. Except you are you, even when you are imagining yourself, aren't you?

I mean, you can't ever stop being you, even if you try –

  
**Douglas:**  
Very sorry to confuse you, Arthur. I will endeavor to speak more plainly.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh, good. Thanks. Oh! “Plainly” – “planely”! Good one, Douglas!

  
**Martin:**  
Right. Well, back to the date –

  
**Douglas:**  
Yes, you were about to reveal the “unbrilliant” end to your so far impressively pleasant date.

  
**Martin:**  
I suppose I'm demonstrating that there is a limit to how

impressive and pleasant a date can be when you are skint.

  
**Douglas:**  
No, not at all. It has been marvelously considerate and inventive.

I'm all agog to hear the end.

  
**Arthur:**  
Wait, Douglas. Are you Agog now? Not Douglas any more?

Who's Agog? Now I'm confused again –

  
**Martin & Douglas:**  
Arthur!

**Arthur:**

… Ok. Shutting up now.

  
**Douglas:**  
Please, Martin. Relieve me of the suspense, and Arthur of his misery of confusion.

  
**Martin:**  
Right. So, when we are tired of gardens and walking and opera –

  
**Douglas:**  
Never.

  
**Martin:**  
OK, we can still listen to opera.

But now we are back at your home.

  
**Douglas:**  
I haven't dropped you off at your place?

  
**Martin:**  
No, because I drove to your place in my van.

  
**Douglas:**  
Ah. Yes, of course.

  
**Martin:**  
And if the day's gone well you would invite me in.

  
**Arthur:**  
He would?

  
**Martin:**  
Yes, because if it's a good date you never want it to end.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh, right.

The ending is the least brilliant part of a really brilliant date.

  
**Douglas:**  
What if it hasn't gone … brilliantly?

  
**Martin:**  
Then there's nothing I can do at this point to salvage things,

so I say good-bye and drive off and hope you chalk it up to a bad dream –

  
**Douglas:**  
Perhaps delirium from starvation.

  
**Martin:**  
 _And_ at least I can still see you at our next flight.

  
**Douglas:**  
Always, Captain.

  
**Martin:**  
… Right. You do usually show up eventually, that's true.

  
**Arthur:**  
But back to the date, suppose Douglas does invite you in for coffee,

because the day _has_ been brilliant, right?

  
**Martin:**  
Then he goes into the kitchen –

  
**Douglas:**  
Wait. Are we still talking about opera?

  
**Martin:**  
Only if you still want to.

  
**Douglas:**  
I suppose either way, before I make the coffee

I put on some music, to set the mood.

  
**Arthur:**  
What mood?

  
**Douglas:**  
Whatever mood I want under the circumstances.

  
**Arthur:**  
Ok. So, what mood would that be?

  
**Martin & Douglas:**  
Arthur!

  
**Arthur:**  
… shutting up.

  
**Martin:**  
After putting on the music, do you go into the kitchen,

or is there more mood-setting to do?

  
**Douglas:**  
No, that will take care of it. For now.

  
**Martin:**  
Alright, so we're both in the kitchen, and I, uh...

  
**Douglas:**  
Yes?

  
**Martin:**  
I, um, I …

  
**Douglas:**  
Press me up against the worktop and ravish me?

  
**Arthur:**  
Wow, Skip!

  
**Martin:**  
No!

  
**Douglas:**  
Damn.

  
**Martin:**  
The kitchen's a terrible place for that!

It's all hard surfaces and sharp edges and hot kettles and cold fridges –

terribly uncomfortable, not to mention a serious safety hazard!

No, If I were going to do something like that I would have

ambushed Douglas right after he put on the music in the sitting room.

  
**Douglas:**  
Oh.

  
**Arthur:**  
Aw, yeah, Skip – brilliant! The sofa and pillows are already right there.

  
**Martin:**  
Exactly. But that's not my plan right now,

not whilst Douglas' stomach is rumbling.

  
**Douglas:**  
Ah. I get fed at last?

  
**Martin:**  
Yes. And as your feet are so weary from walking,

I offer to do the cooking.

  
**Douglas:**  
But we're in _my_ kitchen.

  
**Martin:**  
Do you not trust me with your utensils?

I do know my way around a kitchen.

  
**Douglas:**  
I haven't been planning to entertain –

I'm not sure I have the food for a meal for two.

  
**Martin:**  
Ah, this is where another of my specialised skills come in.

I may not be a gourmet chef always using high-quality ingredients,

but I _can_ cook, and I'm especially practised in preparing

palatable dishes with whatever happens to be on hand.

  
**Arthur:**  
So you'd poke around Douglas' pantry and fridge and figure out something to make?

  
**Martin:**  
Yes. As someone who enjoys eating regular meals,

Douglas I'm sure has a fair number of staples on hand,

like pasta or rice, beans, maybe some veg, or cheese, eggs...

  
**Douglas:**  
Two eggs.

  
**Arthur:**  
What?

  
**Douglas:**  
Two eggs, a mouldy end of cheese, one elderly onion.

Rice, yes. Half a loaf of stale bread.

  
**Martin:**  
Milk?

  
**Douglas:**  
Going off as we speak.

  
**Martin:**  
Sugar?

  
**Douglas:**  
Of course.

  
**Martin:**  
Any spices, dried herbs? Pepper, oregano, basil, thyme?

  
**Douglas:**  
Ye-es, not certain of my exact inventory, but something along those lines.

Had I but known, we could have picked fresh from the gardens we visited.

  
**Martin:**  
Ha bloody ha.  
[mutters] This is easier when your date's skint too, then they understand.

  
**Douglas:**  
Yet I remain curious – now that you have quizzed me on

the motley assortment of foodstuffs in my humble abode,

what exactly did you think you'd make?

  
**Martin:**  
I was thinking along the lines of onion and cheese risotto,

with bread pudding for after.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh, sounds like Surprising Rice!

  
**Martin:**  
No, Arthur, _not_ Surprising Rice! I may have to be a little creative and flexible,

but I still work from established recipes and edible food!

  
**Douglas:**  
Arthur, I strongly recommend, whatever you do,

do _not_ inflict your creative cooking on any of your dates.

  
**Martin:**  
Yes. This may perhaps not have been a good example for Arthur.

  
**Douglas:**  
It did, however, impress me.

I must admit, the idea of cooking for myself from that selection of aging items was not appealing.

  
**Martin:**  
Oh. So... not a completely dim idea.

  
**Douglas:**  
Not at all.

In fact, with one addition, it could be a positively brilliant idea.

  
**Martin:**  
Yes? And what's that?

  
**Douglas:**  
After we've cleared the dishes and retired back to my commodious and comfortable sofa,

you push me firmly against the cushions and proceed to ravish me mercilessly.

  
**Arthur:**  
Aw, Doug, Skip's gone that bright red colour again!

  
**Douglas:**  
Yes. Perhaps more of a rose than a geranium.

We'll have to determine which on our garden walk.

  
**Martin:**  
Oh, stop already! There isn't going to be any garden tour.

  
**Douglas:**  
No? Was that all just a tease, then?

  
**Martin:**  
It was just a game!

Just like you did, with your “perfect date for Martin Crieff”!

Merely examples for Arthur.

  
**Douglas:**  
Oh. I see.

  
**Martin:**  
Look, Arthur, the important thing is, be yourself, notice what things Bitsy likes,

and then do those things that you can do well. Don't try to do things you're no good at,

just to try to impress her – it won't work; but don't do only what you are good at,

if it's not something she likes. Try to find common areas of interest.

  
**Arthur:**  
Oh! Thanks so much, chaps! You both gave me some great ideas.

Think about what Bitsy likes, what kinds of things I can do well – but that she would like...

[The cabin door opens.]

no Surprising Rice... [trails off]

[cabin door closes]

[Silence]

  
**Martin:**  
  What do you think Arthur's chances are of creating an ideal date for Bitsy?

  
**Douglas:**  
Zero to none.

But if she's the right girl for him, it won't matter.

  
**Martin:**  
True.

[Silence]

  
**Martin:**  
[bursts out] Why are you so keen on ravishment, anyway?

Haven't you been ravished enough by your thousands of – thousands?

  
**Douglas:**  
Oddly, no.

  
**Martin:**  
Oh. So it's you who does most of the ravishing, then?

  
**Douglas:**  
I prefer to think of it more as enticement to enjoy

the pleasures of intimate touch, but yes, generally I take the lead.

[Silence]

  
**Martin:**  
So you... you might not object, then, if...

if someone else took– took the lead? For once?

  
**Douglas:**  
Why, Captain, is Sir offering to ravish me?

  
**Martin:**  
R-r-right now – Here?! On the flight deck?! Of course not!

Do you know how many regulations that breaks?

What if we fall on something? And there's no room!

  
**Douglas:**  
Shall we go back in the cabin then?

  
**Martin:**  
DOUGLAS! ONE OF US HAS TO FLY THE PLANE!  
You'll have to ravish yourself if you're that desperate, sorry.

  
**Douglas:**  
Well, then, what about when we get home?

If you don't care for the sofa I do have a very nice bed, plenty large for both of us...

  
**Martin:**  
Yes, yes, fine. In a bed, at your place.

I'll ravish you all you want.

  
**Douglas:**  
Really? That's very generous of you, Martin.

I do like a lot of ravishment.

  
**Martin:**  
If I don't provide enough you can have a go at ravishing me.

I'm sure you have plenty of tips you could offer.

  
**Douglas:**  
I'm sure I do. And I'm sure I will.

  
**Martin:**  
Good then. Fine. Very good.... I look forward to it.

  
**Douglas:**  
As have I. Very much so, in fact.

[Silence]

  
**Douglas:**  
Captain, is your seat quite comfortable?

You seem a bit squirmy – perhaps you're in need of an adjustment?

  
**Martin:**  
IT'S FINE! I'M FINE! Fine, fine, fine, all fine.

Why wouldn't I be fine? I'm fine.

  
**Douglas:**  
My goodness, eight "fine"s. I do believe that's a record number.

Sir must be very fine indeed.

  
**Martin:**  
I am. Absolutely.

  
**Douglas:**  
Excellent. I await the discovery of just how fine with

an almost Arthur-level eagerness of anticipation –  
oh dear, Sir has gone squirmy again...

  
**Martin:**  
I'm not _squirmy!_

  
**Douglas:**  
Not _yet._

  
**Martin:**  
Oh, we'll see who's squirmy.

Remember who is ravishing whom.

  
**Douglas:**  
[faux-meekly] Yes, Captain.

  
**Martin:**  
I'm the ravish _er_ , _you_ are the ravish _ee_.

  
**Douglas:**  
Ravishee? Is that a word?

  
**Martin:**  
It ought to be. It _will_ be.

**Douglas:**

Yes, _Captain_.


End file.
